A Cup of Tea
by Insanity Studios Ink
Summary: Third version of The Andersons. When Jane Ferron enters the world of Berk, she brings the knowledge of the future with her. So when a evil tyrant threatens the Western Archipelago and all it holds dear, it is up to Jane and her friends to save the day. Reted teen for possible swearing on the author's part. Dedicated to lovemyjm. Happy birthday, my friend.
_Welcome to my newest story, "A Cup of Tea!" For those of you who have followed my ridiculously changing stories, this is the third edition of The Andersons. Please note: Names have been changed! "Anderson" is now "Ferron." Also, my times don't match up a bit here. The Byzantine Empire fell around 400 AD, and the first vikings appeared around 750 AD. There is around a 770 year difference, because Hiccup says that Berk has "been here for seven generations." I may be stretching it a little, but not a lot. Also, there is some purposeful atrocious spelling. This is to try to imitate Gobber's Scottish accent (Did anyone notice how the adults have Nordic or British accents, but none of the children have accents?) If this is too confusing, let me know and I will edit it to proper spelling. More information is provided in the endnote._

 _Happy Birthday to… **lovemyjm**! This story is dedicated to you for all the support and guidance you have given me. Please, enjoy it. Here is Chapter one of "A Cup of Tea!"_

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Jane was sitting quietly on a crate in the hold. She was aboard the Falcon, a Viking warship headed for the small island of Berk. She had decided to escape the chaos above-decks by hiding in the storage room and hoping no one wanted her. For some unknown reason, Joanna the Jolly and Anita the Aggravated were fighting like dogs over a bone. Normally, Jane would jump right in, but these two were out for blood. Not that it mattered, she supposed. She could just as easily ignore them.

Her stomach grumbled in hunger, protesting at her missed breakfast. Jane went around the hold in search of an apple or something, looking to appease the gnawing at her stomach. She found a small loaf of bread, and broke off the end. "Not bad," she thought, nibbling it, "but it could use a little salt." She figured she had better get used to the tastes of Berk though; she would be there for the next six months.

Someone blew a horn, right above her. Ears reverberating from the blast, she shook her head to clear it from her mind. "Something important must be going on." she muttered to herself. She got up from her crate, stretching her stiff muscles out. With a yawn, she tromped up the stairs, hoping she wasn't wasting her time. Turns out, she wasn't. They had held a meeting about the weather recently, which Jane found strangely fascinating. New Jersey didn't get a whole lot of snow. At least, not in the city.

How she managed to survive the trip, she would never fully know. She assumed that she hid in the hold for the majority of the trip, therefore avoiding the larger portion of the fights. So there was a good reason she was overjoyed to see the shores of the island. The sun had set behind the mountain dominating the horizon, and the flickering lights of the village gleamed in the dusk. Silhouettes danced in the air, swooping above the village in search of their humans. One of those dark shadows was illuminated briefly. It was only there for a second, but Jane would never forget it.

A dragon. Big, strong, and powerful, its red scales glinted in the momentary light before it flitted away back into the night. Jane gasped at the beauty of it all, amazed at how such a dangerous thing could be so alluring."Beaut'ful, ain't it?" a voice asked. A man with a long, blond mustache and a wooden leg and arm stood to her left. He had a rock for a tooth, and seemed to have soot on his face, though it may have been the shadow. "I ne'er get tiered of seein' mah home." Jane could easily identify his accent as Scottish, with a touch of Welsh. He stuck out his good hand, and she shook it. "Gobber th' Belch." he said, after Jane introduced herself.

"If ya don't mind, may ah look at ye dagger?" he asked her. Jane was surprised; no one had paid the knife in her belt any attention. "Err, sure." she said, taking it out. He looked it over carefully, inspecting every inch. "Not Gronkle iron, but close." he muttered to himself. Jane realized he was wondering what it was made of, and, feeling stupid, answered him. "It is made with steel. It was an invention during the Byzantine Empire." she told him."Ah' remember this from somewhere, but what does it remin' me of?" He wondered aloud, giving it back to her.

"Ya know, ah own th' blacksmith's here, an' ah could sharpen tha' for ya." "Oh, could you?" Jane said. "That would be much appreciated." She turned her gaze back on Berk, much closer now. "It is really pretty." she said, answering his first question. "I am very happy to be here." She watched as a dragon flew through the night sky, a rider on its back. She hoped that she too would one day learn the secrets of the mighty dragons.

By this time, the ship was ready to land. They pulled up to the dock, vikings jumping off to secure the ship. The rest to the people got off, leaving for their homes. Jane waited for Hiccup, because he was taking her to his house until the guest cabin could be fixed up. The Haddock house stood at the very top of a cliff, right above the sea. One could walk ten feet out the back door and fall to their death. Not a very child-friendly setting Jane thought, but neither was any of Berk.

The door opened before they got to it. The Haddock matriarch stood there waiting for them. She greeted her husband with a kiss, and Jane with a hug. "You must be Astrid." she assumed. The woman in question nodded, asking if she was Jane. At her reply of yes, Jane was pushed up the stairs to a room on the right, where her trunk was deposited. "This is your room. We hope it's comfortable enough for you." Hiccup said, smiling at her. Jane nodded, unpacking her bags and smiling back.

She was placing her clothes in the roughly hewn dresser when a blur that looked to be a six-year-old boy flew through her room, rolling under her bed. A girl tromped in a moment later, looking perfectly calm. She gave her name as Gwen, and asked if Jane had her brother Aron. Jane pitied poor Aron, and told her she had not seen him. Gwen stomped off, yelling for her brother.

Aron promptly crawled out from under the bed. He had a dust bunny in his hair, and thanked her briefly before running out from the room for a different hiding place. Jane shook her head at their antics. She had long since stopped chasing her brother over the Ferron household. Getting bored of winning against him, she had taken up teasing him instead.

Jane decided that she had put enough things away to placate her obsessive-compulsive disorder, and went downstairs to get a drink. A voice drifted up the stairs to her. "Should we let the villagers know?" "No, not until we are sure of this threat. For all we know, it could be a nasty joke." Feeling she was eavesdropping on a subject she shouldn't be, she slowly crept back to her room. As quickly as she tried to get there, she wasn't quick enough to avoid hearing the name Baron Von Trupen.

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The next morning, Jane decided to be up bright and early to help Astrid with breakfast. She could smell fish frying over the fire. "Do you have any coffee?" she asked Astrid. Astrid shook her head, asking what coffee was. Jane decided she would have to make her own, so she ran upstairs to get her supplies. A minute later, she stood at the doorway to the kitchen again. Armed with a beat up percolator and a grinder in one hand, and a two pound bag of coffee beans in the other, she was ready to take on the day.

After drinking her coffee, she set out to familiarize herself with the village. She smelled the baker making a batch of pastries, and the fishmonger readying her catch. She heard clanging coming from the building on the left, and awful singing that sounded suspiciously like Gobber's. "Gobber?" she called. "Is that you?" He emerged from the depths of the shop, a red-hot sword in hand. "Ello lass, good ta see ya!" he said while plunging the glowing metal into the bucket of water. The cloud of steam temporarily hid his figure as he tried to wave it off. "Wha' can ah help ya with?" the cloud called. "Nothing. I'm just looking at the village of Berk." she responded as the steam finally dissipated. "Go fer it." Gobber responded, turning back to his sword.

"Er, do you mind if I look at your wares?" she asked him. "Sure." he responded, going back to heating the metal. Jane wandered the small shop, scrutinizing the details of each weapon. She didn't see any that she liked, and she was giving up hope when she saw the shelf of daggers by the corner. She was examining them one by one, not one living up to her expectations. The pile of rejected weapons finally outnumbered the rest of them. The door opened, admitting a burly viking looking to have his kitchen knife set sharpened for his wife. As the door opened, the sunlight shone across the room, illuminating the corner that Jane stood in.

The sunlight hit the table, igniting the dust in the air with a fiery glow. A glint flashed in her eye. She looked for the source, checking on the table. One of the knives fell off, and she bent down to fetch it. A small sword sat half-buried in the dust. She picked it up, the former dagger ignored. It was covered in rust, but looked to be very well-made. She gasped, the feeling of recognition in the back of her mind put into place. She pulled the small knife from her belt, and held it to the sword. They were almost exactly the same. The length was different, and the sword was more worn. But they were obviously supposed to be part of a set.

"Gobber?' she called, but her voice was drowned by the hideous singing that had resumed. "GOBBER!" she hollered again. He hobbled over, his hammer attachment swinging at his side. "Yeah?" "Where did you get this?" she asked him. He took the rusty sword she was holding out, examining it. "That's wha' your dagger reminded me of!" he cried. "Some Roman gave it tah me a while back. He left soon after." Jane took it back, scowling at its resemblance to her weapon. She noticed a few markings, almost like scratches, on the blade. They seemed to form words, but were too hard to make out. "Gobber, do you mind if I buy this?" she asked the burly Viking. "Nah, you ca' have it." he said. "Oh, thank you!" she said, and then asked to use the grindstone. When Gobber granted her permission, she started it up, grinding the rust slowly of the sword.

Within ten minutes, she had gotten most of the rust off, and was resorting to rubbing the rest off with a small rock. Gobber nodded, impressed at how well she had treated the metal. "Ya know Jane, ah still need an apprentice. Do ya thin'k you'd want ta do it?" Jane said she would think about it, but her attention was caught by something else. The rust had come off enough to read the words. Reading them, she gasped.

 _ **Property of Jane Ferron**_

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 _Whew! Thank goodness I finally got this blasted chapter done! As mentioned before, this whole story is dedicated to_ _ **lovemyjm**_ _for all the help and support you have given me, both writing and in life. Thank you so much! As it is also your birthday, this shall be part of your present. Happy Birthday! *hands everyone cake* Anywho, hope you are having fun!_ _*straps party hat on and blows an annoying buzz-horn thing*_

 _Now, about the story. As I mentioned above, there have been some major changes. This is the new-and-improved The Andersons, third edition. I have changed a few names, mostly their last name from "Anderson" to "Ferron." Ferron is a French name meaning "blacksmith."_ _Also, there was only one entry in the phone book, verses a_ full page _of people with the surname of "Anderson." I will also be changing Colby/Xasapher's name, but I am not sure yet what to. Feel free to submit a name!_

 _Finally_ _, I split The Andersons into two parts: one focusing on Jane's half, and the other orientated around Colby/Xasapher's part. A title for Colby's half has not been decided, so again, feel free to submit one. Also, I am presently looking for a beta-reader. If you are interested, let me know via PM or Review._

 _PLEASE NOTE: THE ANDERSONS, BOTH ORIGINAL AND REVISED, ARE_ _ **NOT**_ _, I REPEAT,_ _ **NOT**_ _, UP FOR ADOPTION! PLEASE DO NOT ASK TO FINISH THEM! Thank you._

 _If you find any mistakes whatsoever, whether grammatical, spelling, or history/time-line wise, please tell me so I can fix them. With your help, this story will be my best yet!_

 _And as for the last thing I have to say, if you are religious, could you please pray for my best friend? She is currently going through some hard times, and it is starting to scare me. Thank you._

 _Yours in Destiny, Joan McCreed_ _y_

Finished 3/24/16

Update 3/25/16: The Byzantine Empire fell around 1453, so no timeline issues.

Posted 4/2/16 (hopefully)


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